On April 8, 2014 my life was changed forever. That day marked the beginning of a painful journey my family would be forced to travel. It is only now that I can honestly say it was a journey worth taking, and it took a long time to come to this realization.

My husband was approaching his 10th anniversary of ministry in our current church, as a Southern Baptist Pastor. We were in the middle of revival services and he called me at work to ask me out for lunch. I always love a lunch date with my husband, but when he asked during such a busy week, I knew something was up. When I pressed him, he told me that our youngest son, Addison, had told some kids in the youth group that he is gay. When I heard those words, my heart sank. I felt true panic. I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified.

Although it was a shock, I must admit it really came as no surprise. We had suspected this for most of Addison’s life, yet we dared not speak of it. But now it was real. The one thing I had dreaded and feared most for my son. He had spoken the words we would have never ever said ourselves. He said, “I’m gay.” The news had already spread to other parents and church staff, leaving us no option to handle this privately as a family. We were forced to deal with it immediately, and there was much more to consider than just our son, even though he was, by far, most important. We were a Southern Baptist minister’s family and I knew what that meant for us. Fear overtook me as I imagined what lay ahead for my family.

I used what little time I had that afternoon to research, “How to talk to your kid about being gay.” I didn’t find much, but I did come across these statistics. 40% of homeless youth are LGBT. 30% of gay youth attempt suicide near the age of 15. Almost half of gay and lesbian teens have attempted suicide more than once. Upon learning this, my mind raced back to when Addison was 14 years old. He went through the normal awkward teenager stage just as his brothers did before him, but it was more than just that. He was angry, and he seemed to hate everything about his life. One night, I caught him on his way upstairs to his bedroom, carrying a ziplock bag of pills. It was a mixture of Advil and Tylenol. His excuse was that he wanted to keep medicine upstairs for convenience whenever he had a headache. The youth minister revealed to us shortly after, that in a youth group meeting, Addison shared having suicidal thoughts. Around that same time, he came to us wanting to be re- baptized. He said he just didn’t feel like he had been saved before. We were very puzzled by this, but Scott counseled him and he prayed to receive Christ, followed by baptism in our church. We watched him very closely during that time, and things eventually got better. But looking back, I realized what my precious son must have been going through years earlier and it scared me to death!

That night, after an emotional wait, we finally had the opportunity to talk with Addison. We approached the conversation with an undeniable love for our son on one hand, and our deeply imbedded conservative theology on the other. When we confronted him, he admitted to telling his friends. He had participated in an “honest hour” online where people can ask questions and you must answer honestly. Someone asked if he was gay and he simply said, “Yes”. He did not intend to come out that way, it just happened. I never will forget hearing Scott tell him how disappointed we were that he had made this choice, and then seeing the look on my son’s face when he said, “Dad, this is not my choice! Why would anyone choose this? If I could choose anything, I would choose not to be this way!” He said he had prayed every night for years for God to change him, only to wake up the next morning, still the same. He had always heard from us that being gay is a sin. He heard his dad preach it from the pulpit, and he heard me say it at home. We had unknowingly created in him such a fear of rejection that he was too afraid to talk to us about it. He said he believed what the Bible said, but he couldn’t understand why God would say it’s wrong and still create him like that. It was at that moment I began to wonder the same thing, as I sat there with my heart breaking for him. Scott ended the conversation that night by making a deal with Addison. They both agreed to make it a matter of serious prayer and seek God’s direction concerning this. Scott told him if they both did that, he was convinced God would change one of them. I began praying too. I desperately wanted to pray for my son not to be gay, but instead I just prayed for answers. I had so many questions! Could it be that my son really was born gay? If so, why would God’s word clearly condemn homosexuality when it’s not a choice? Why would God give us a gay son, knowing it meant the “death penalty” for a Southern Baptist minister? We couldn’t reject our son, but were we wrong to accept him? How could anything good come from this? It felt like a curse!

For the next several days, well…actually weeks, I grieved. It took a conscious effort to even breathe as I merely went through the motions of my daily routine. I finally came to terms with the fact that this was real. It was not going away. I grieved the loss of my hopes and dreams I had for my son. The dream that one day he would marry one of those pretty girls he hung out with. The hope of him giving me grandchildren. I looked back at my son’s life and wondered where I went wrong. What could I have done differently? Did I mother him too closely? I guess I had a full blown pity party. Then one day I realized that this wasn’t really about me. It wasn’t about me at all. My son was gay. What did this mean for him? It meant that he would have to face prejudice throughout his entire life. Prejudice from people just like me who saw this as a sinful choice. A prejudice that could cost him family, friendships, employment, safety and basic civil rights. A prejudice that could leave him exiled from the church, and even worse, could cause him to leave his faith behind. This was my son. My son. MY SON! And then suddenly, I felt myself go quickly from “poor pitiful me” to “protective Mama Bear!” I went from, “Oh my God my son is gay!” to, “Yeah, my son is gay, what have you got to say about that?!” That’s when I realized God was changing me.

Meanwhile, my husband was devoting every spare minute he had to research, desperately searching for answers to reconcile our faith with our reality. He plowed through the Hebrew and Greek, researched Biblical culture, and read every book he could find on the subject. The more he read, the more he began to understand the scripture like he never had before. God was changing him too. I remembered the deal that Scott made with Addison that night in our bedroom, and I realized it wasn’t our son that God wanted to change. It was us.

I wish I could say that everything was easy from that point on, but actually, that’s when things began to get worse. Not only Scott’s job, but his career was hanging by a thread. We knew that if he left the church because of this, no other Southern Baptist Church would want him. What would happen to our family? Would we have to sell our house? How would we pay the bills? Were we facing bankruptcy? We hoped and prayed for the best, but tried to prepare ourselves for the worst, while keeping these worries from our son as best we could. Scott began looking for other job opportunities, but with no success. Ministry was the only thing Scott knew and he had poured his heart into nothing else for over 30 years. We feared for our family’s future, but we wanted to honor God with our actions. I knew it would be difficult to hold back words as our family went under attack, but Scott and I made a conscious decision to treat the church with the
same grace we desired for our family. We were convinced that God would protect us somehow if we trusted Him through this.

People were beginning to gossip in the church. Imagine that! Scott tackled it head on, meeting with the deacons to address all their concerns. He shared deeply from his heart. He told them he was studying to find answers and he didn’t know how it would affect his theology. He assured them that if and when he found himself in conflict with SBC doctrine, he would resign. The deacons said they were in 100% support of Scott, but they had some conditions. They wanted him to take three weeks off “to deal with our family crisis.” (Our family was just fine; the only crisis was with them.) They also wanted assurance that Addison wouldn’t try to “sway” any of the other young people to become gay (yes, really!) and prohibited him from talking about himself or doing anything “gay” on church property. And they wanted Scott to address the church when he returned, announcing to everyone that our son is gay, but that he did not support him and still firmly held to his beliefs according to Southern Baptist doctrine.

Scott did take a couple of weeks off. He honestly needed the break from the deacons! He used that time to research everything he could get his hands on, and we prayed for guidance on how to handle conflict with the church. Our son was our main priority, but we loved our church and we desperately wanted to protect it too. Scott decided against making a church-wide announcement. He met with the deacons when he returned and explained that for him to make a public announcement about our family’s personal affairs would be no different from them announcing all their family secrets. Were they willing to line up behind him to make their announcements as well? Nothing more was said concerning an announcement, but it made me wonder why all the attention was on our son, when all he did was go to school and come straight home to a few chores and homework every day. He had no social life. He wasn’t “doing” anything.

As time went on, the tension only grew as rumors were spread, private meetings were held, Scott’s sermons were picked apart, our parenting was criticized, and our family was put under the microscope like never before. Adults were even stalking Addison on social media, forcing him to close his Facebook account. We pulled him out of the youth group his senior year to protect him from the adult youth leaders, whom we no longer trusted. I was the Women’s Ministry Leader and very involved with the ladies of the church. Those that knew of our situation began avoiding me like a plague. I lost a best friend in the church who just couldn’t support me through this. Another close friend asked me, “Does Addison think he can still be a Christian now that he’s decided to be gay?” One of the ladies suggested my son had a disease and she was sorry we didn’t know about it soon enough to get him help. Another said, “I just want you to know I love your boys, AND Addison.”

Those words hurt me deeply, but what hurt most was the silence from the staff and leadership of the church, who knew our family was hurting. They did nothing to support us or minister to us. Maybe they just didn’t know how. I realized the vast majority of members were not even aware of the issue, and we tried very hard to keep it that way. But I felt so completely alone and isolated. It was a struggle to continue, putting on my smile week after week, as if nothing was wrong. As much as we tried to protect him, Addison became aware that some of the adults didn’t want him to be there. I’ll never forget him saying to me, “Mom, if they don’t want me at church, I can just stay home and Dad can have church without me there.” I told my son, “The day you stay home, I’ll be staying home with you!” My heart ached for him, and there was absolutely no one that could understand.

Friendships were lost, but God was so gracious. I prayed for people I could talk to, people who had been where we were. I was randomly searching the internet one day and landed on The Gay Christian Network (GCN). There, I found a wonderful support group of Christian people, but not like the Christians I was surrounded by at church. These people knew what it was like to be judged by other Christians and exiled from their churches. These people were gay Christians, and they became my new best friends. They were patient and understanding, even though they knew I saw them as sinners. They traveled my journey with me, treating me with unconditional love and compassion as they watched God change me right before their eyes.

Another life saver for me was a private Facebook group of moms that I found. You name it; these moms have been through it, from being outcast from their churches, losing their jobs, having their spouse leave, being disowned by family, and some even losing their gay child to suicide. I’ve cried with these women and they have cried with me. Although I may never meet most of them in person, they are my true friends.

Out of all our church members, God blessed us with two great couples that stood by us and loved our family through the fire. I realize the courage it took to support us, and the cost to them was great. Scott and I desperately needed them when others betrayed us, and I’m so thankful for their friendship.

With Addison’s permission, we told our family about his news early on. His brothers said they had known all along, and they both agreed that he is their brother and they will love him no matter what. Aaron, his oldest brother, said, “If anyone gives Addison a hard time about it they’ll only do it once!” It made me happy to know his brothers had his back. My sister offered her shoulder for me to cry on, and I used it often. That’s what sisters are for, and I’m thankful she was willing to listen. Scott agonized over telling his mom, but when he finally did, she said, “Well I could’ve told you that young man was gay years ago but it wasn’t for me to say!” My mother was supportive as well, although neither mom really understands what it means to be gay. They both think Addison could change his mind someday and they’re holding onto the hope that a pretty girl might turn his head.

As time went on, God continued to reconstruct our faith. One day Scott said to me, “I’ve changed and I don’t think the church can handle me anymore.” He had come to the place where he could no longer continue to pastor the church with integrity. It wasn’t even about our son anymore. My husband was not the same person he had been a year earlier, and there was no going back. He’s always been one to follow God’s call even when it doesn’t make sense, and even when there is no safety net. In May of 2015 he met with our personnel team leader to share his plans to resign, without another job waiting. Our prayer for the past year had been for God to show us if and when to close that door. Now we had to pray for Him to open a new one, quickly! God answered that prayer when a Chaplain from Hospice of West Alabama contacted Scott, asking him to submit a resume. God rewarded my husband’s faith by providing a fulfilling job where he could minister to families and make a real difference. Although this position created a substantial pay cut, we knew it was God’s answer to our specific prayer for provision. He announced his resignation to the church, and was able to leave under the best of circumstances; yet, it was by far the hardest thing we’ve ever done in ministry. We’ve left churches before, but this move was different from all the others. Not only were we leaving an 11-year pastorate, we were leaving our denomination behind. Thirty-two years of ministry as we had known it was now over.

We’ve considered visiting to find a new church home, but for me personally, the risk is just too great. I will never subject my family, particularly my gay son, to abuse by another church, ever. After the church family we loved and gave so much of ourselves to for eleven years chose not to support us, I can’t imagine how a new church, with no connection to us would fully accept our family. We no longer consider ourselves Southern Baptists. We’re just Jesus followers. And I must say, it feels good!

We’ve been accused of compromising our beliefs to accommodate our son, but nothing could be further from the truth. I believe God gifted us with a gay son and used him to bring about much needed change. Sometimes it takes something huge to get us to reconsider our lifelong interpretation of God’s Word. Our son’s life was important enough to search for the truth. And it was in our search that we discovered having a gay son was not the problem, but rather the means to finding the solution!

Our journey has been difficult to say the least. But God showed His grace to our family by offering protection, provision, and now healing.

What once seemed like a curse has turned into the biggest blessing of my life! I have changed and I would never want to go back to the way I was before.I am learning more and more every day what it means to REALLY love people like Jesus. To lay judgement aside, to show grace and understanding, and to walk a few steps in another’s shoes.

I’ve taught Addison all his life to love everyone, and to never put himself above another person. But in the last year, I’ve learned that more from him than I could have ever taught. I’m so proud of him. My son is brave, loving, smart, funny, creative, sensitive, caring, sooo handsome, …and oh yeah, he’s GAY! His two brothers are pretty amazing too!

One of my friends from GCN sent me these words that I have hung onto. “There is a difference between acting like a Christian and acting like Jesus. When you act like a Christian everyone at church will praise you and reward you. But Heaven help the Christian who starts acting like Jesus. When believers act like Jesus there is a price to pay. You won’t be understood and the church won’t be very happy. But the end result is a relationship with the living God that is real, and honest and loving. It is full of grace.”

These days my focus is pretty simple. I just want to act like Jesus.

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Jackie’s husband, Scott McQueen, a former Southern Baptist pastor of 31 years, has written Reasonable Doubt: A Case for LGBTQ Inclusion in the Institutions of Marriage and Church. The book is being published by CanyonWalker Press and will be available through Amazon and other outlets in paperback and e-book in January, 2018.

________________________________________________Serendipitydodah for Moms is a private Facebook group for moms of LGBTQ kids. Our official motto is “We Are Better Together” and our nickname is “Mama Bears” The group is set up so that only members can see who is in the group and what is posted there. It was started in June 2014 and presently has more than 2,000 members. For more info email lizdyer55@gmail.com

Today I’m excited to be sharing two powerful stories with you that have a special connection.

This one from Kimberly Shappley. As early as 18 months old, Kimberly’s son started showing signs that he identified as female. In this essay Kimberly shares her story of being a conservative Christian mom of a trans child, and how and why she learned to embrace Kai’s transition. (This essay was first published by Good Housekeeping in April 2017)

The second story, Affirming Kai, is part of the “Stories That Change The World” series and is written by Kimberly’s friend, Niki Breeser Tschirgi. One of the toughest things that moms of lgbtq kids deal with is the loss of supportive friends and family members … but, thank goodness, there are those friends, like Niki, who don’t abandon us!

If you enjoy these two stories please consider sharing them with your friends.

I remember one night when Kai was very young, and I was tucking her into bed. Her legs felt so cold that I became concerned, lifted the sheets and discovered she had taken a pair of panties off a baby doll and put them on herself. It was constricting her blood circulation and if she’d slept that way overnight, it could have become very dangerous. After that experience, I realized I could no longer ignore something very real about my child:

My son, born Joseph Paul Shappley, is a girl.

I was raised as a devout, conservative Christian with strong Republican values in the South. It’s a place where being different can not only be unforgiving, but unsafe. I had been a leader of a small ministry teaching Bible study at my local church, and I didn’t support or condone those living the “LGBTQ lifestyle.” That was just part what I’d been brought up to believe as a Christian and I knew I’d instill those same principles in my children.

But all of my beliefs and convictions were brought into question when, at 18 months old, Kai began exhibiting very strong female characteristics. From the moment my child was born, everything about Kai was geared toward femininity. She would pull T-shirts down around her waist to make them into skirts. She would tie long-sleeved shirts around her head and pretend it was long hair. I tried to force her to wear clothes with camouflage and superhero patterns, and even gave her severe, flat-top haircuts. Kai has five other siblings who are boys, so it was also a very testosterone-filled family environment, which I thought might help. Everything was fishing and spitting and boy stuff. But Kai just continued to be Kai.

As a Christian mother raising a Christian family, it was a very difficult time for me. I wasn’t ready to give in and allow Kai to transition socially — especially at such a young age. My internal struggle beat me up daily. I felt like I couldn’t go against everything I’d been taught to believe, and yet I also couldn’t let Kai live in such obvious agony. I wasn’t ready to face the fact that my one-and-a-half-year-old child was a girl and that battle lasted for a couple years.

Shortly after Kai turned 2, friends and family were starting to notice her behavior. Living in Pearland, Texas, that meant we were getting a lot of sidelong glances and questions. Kai would only play with other girls and girls’ toys. She said boys were “gross.” Family members were flat-out asking me if she was gay. It made me nervous, and I was constantly worried about what people would think of me, of her, of our family and of my parenting.

While family was questioning whether Kai was gay, a Christian friend of mine, who is also a child psychologist, asked me: “Have you noticed Kai’s feminine behavior?” It was such a gentle question, as opposed to the harsh accusations of others. I said, “I’ve noticed, but I figure she’ll just grow out of it.” I can laugh at that now. It’s so clear, in retrospect, that this was not a passing phase. But when my friend asked me that, I still wasn’t ready to accept it. As I continued to watch my child developing, my friend started pointing out red flags that there was something very real going on. She told me I needed to consider that Kai might be transgender.

By the time Kai was 3 1/2 years old, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. She was verbalizing that she was a girl at least six times a day. Everything was: “I’m a princess” and “I’m a girl.” Every time she’d say something like that, I’d get down on her level and firmly say, “No, you’re a boy.” It never worked. She would correct me by waiting until I was in the middle of something and unable to chase her around, then run into the room and yell, “I’m a girl!” and run out again. I did everything I could think of to cut off that kind of talk. There were time-outs, so many time-outs. There were spankings and yelling matches and endless prayers. I even contacted the daycare Kai attended and asked them to put away every single “girl” toy. They complied with it, but Kai never changed her tune. The tenaciousness and bravery of this child is something from which I’ve learned so much.

I started reaching out to more professionals, including a child psychiatrist who asked me, “If you and Kai were on a deserted island, would you let her wear girls’ clothes?'” I said, “Probably.” The psychiatrist told me it wasn’t God I had a problem with, but what other people would think of my child and me. That really got my gears spinning. I thought, Okay, I could start with girls’ panties. It’s something no one else will see. It took me three or four trips to Walmart until I could finally bring myself to do it. I’d go pick them up and then leave them in the store, crying as I walked out of the automatic doors. I would be so upset, and then I’d feel bad about not getting them. It was something so seemingly small, but it was a huge hurdle to overcome.

Guilt and confusion were eating away at me in a constant battle to find a solution. Kai was still 3 1/2 when I came across Leelah Alcorn’s story online. Leelah, born Josh Alcorn, had voiced a desire to live as a girl. Her parents said that, religiously, they wouldn’t stand for it. Leelah later wrote a note to her parents and a specific passage stuck with me: “Even if you are Christian or against transgender people don’t ever say that to your kid. That won’t do anything but make them hate themselves. That’s exactly what it did to me.” Alcorn’s story ended tragically — she committed suicide because her parents wouldn’t let her be who God designed her to be. That hit too close to home. I’d heard Kai praying to please let Joseph go home and live with Jesus. I mean, this kid was asking the Lord to let her die.

After that, I started studying the Bible more intensely. I was compelled to know as much as I could about Jesus, His nature and character. I would read and reread His interactions with the religious people of the Bible who were always using scripture to justify their hateful actions. I noticed that over and over again Jesus would confront them and challenge them to view the scripture through the lens of love.

Online, I found a secret Facebook community of Christian moms of LGBTQ kids. It’s a beautiful group with a combined total of more than 2,000 moms now. There I found women who would pray with me and for me. They were the least judgmental and loving Christians I have ever met. They let me know I wasn’t alone. Their support and encouragement made me brave enough to rethink what I believed and consider that I might be wrong about some things.

Eventually, when Kai was 4, I was able to allow her to transition. There was still fear and confusion. I was defying the societal and cultural expectations of our community, family and friends. But I knew I had to choose to accept my daughter exactly the way God created her — and there was also a beautiful freedom in that. A few weeks after I stopped punishing Kai for “acting girly,” she put on a wizard robe she’d received as a birthday gift, making it her “first dress.” She stole my headband to make a belt and pulled her hair forward as much as possible.

When I look back at photos of that day, I have mixed emotions: Regret that I made her suffer so long. Pride for what a tough cookie she is. Respect for such a young child who has taught me so much about unconditional love. And then I just laugh … because, how could I ever doubt that this kid is a girl?

While my biggest personal struggle was the choice to let Kai, now 6, transition, my greatest trial as a woman of faith has been the persecution I’ve received from other Christians. Family members, friends and church members have judged our family and ostracized us to the point that we’ve considered moving. I’m so disappointed in the hatred they call “love the sinner, hate the sin.” You cannot have fresh water and salt water from the same spring. But despite the ignorance and hurtful words of others, I choose to arm myself with knowledge. I have to face the fact that my child is at the highest risk of suicide and/or being murdered in a hate crime and I have to do everything I can to compensate for the obstacles that Kai will face. I have to do everything I can to give Kai every opportunity to grow into a whole and healthy adult. That’s my job as her mother.

I have surrounded my family with transgender men and women who are leaders in the community. They encourage Kai to be proud of who she is and where she comes from. We’re building a stronger community together. When Kai was finally allowed to be her true self, she blossomed. I put princess panties in her drawer and she fell to the ground, hugging those panties and sobbing, saying, “Thank you, Mommy, thank you.” Within a few short weeks of letting her transition, she was no longer lying, no bed-wetting, no more nightmares. I now have a happy, healthy, outgoing, loving, beautiful, sweet little girl who loves Jesus and loves her brothers.

Yes, the emotional challenge has been great, but I’d rather face that challenge myself than have my child face it alone like so many transgender children have because their parents won’t let them transition.

There’s never been a moment of doubt or regret after making the choice to let Kai transition. I’ve learned too much about identity and faith in loving my beautiful daughter exactly the way she is.

She’s a loud, happy and joyful girl who expects that everybody’s going to be kind and good. It’s her persistent spirit that has enabled her to transition so young. She knows who she is and has no problem making sure that everyone else knows too.

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Serendipitydodah for Moms is a private Facebook group for moms of LGBTQ kids. Our official motto is “We Are Better Together” and our nickname is “Mama Bears” The group is set up so that only members can see who is in the group and what is posted there. It was started in June 2014 and presently has more than 2,000 members. For more info email lizdyer55@gmail.com

Saying “we are all sinners” when talking about someone’s loving relationship, marriage or family is not loving or kind – it is unkind, unloving and disrespectful. It strips away a person’s human dignity when you compare the most important and cherished things in their life to sin. All any straight person has to do is imagine how they would feel if someone called their engagement, marriage, family sinful – which is why these words from Stan Mitchell are so important.

“We Are All Sinners” – A Step In The Right Direction But Still Not Enough by Stan Mitchell

A wonderful same-sex couple I know well have been monogamously, faithfully together for 30+ years. In that time, they have raised three beautiful, productive children (who all happen to be heterosexual, btw) and now have several grandchildren. While they will absolutely agree with you that they are imperfect creatures who have sinned and still do, what is terribly hurtful and painfully offensive to them is when this most beautiful part of their life – their family – is called their sin. When this perhaps sincere yet patronizing religious overture is offered them, they look at their love, their children and their grandchildren and say, “No doubt we have sin in our life but this love and these children are not it.”

What am I saying here and why am I saying it?

There are many Christians who, though they believe same-sex love is wrong, also sense that excluding their LGBT sisters & brothers from the fellowship of Christianity is at least as wrong. Caught in this painful catch-22, one way many attempt to reconcile this untenable tension is to offer that while same-sex love is indeed sin, it is no worse than other sins, including their own. Essentially, they are saying, “We are all sinners saved by grace so if you are out because of your sin then I am out because of mine and if I get to be in in spite of my sin then so do you.”

While this effort is appreciable and a step in the right direction for sure, it still falls short and is hauntingly comparable to the Jim Crow south as a progression from slavery – better but not remotely enough. Just as an entire generation of people finally looked at a separate water fountain and said it can not quench my thirst, there are millions of people who can not, out of self-respect and the sheer dignity of their own soul, accept the acceptance that is no acceptance – calling their love, “sin” and their family, “sinful.”

(The photo I have included is of my son and his fiance who will be married in October of this year. I look forward to celebrating them, their love and the life they are building together!)

In the South, coming out is the language of debutantes, those rosy-cheeked young women in long white dresses and matching white gloves up to the elbow, floating like feathers down marble staircases the size of Texas. Their introduction to society is a celebratory time of champagne and parties, of photo opportunities in green backyard gardens, of laughter and back-slapping, of proud fathers and stressed-out mothers – a kind of nuptials trial run.

That fanfare is a far cry from the coming out of the boy I birthed on a chilly midwestern morning just seventeen summers prior – the boy who has my heart, the one who measures his words to me as carefully as a carpenter measures the wood before he feeds it to the blade. It is in that space between his voice gathering its steam and my mental chatter slowing to a crawl that I intuit the words before he even says them.

Mom, I’m gay. I’ve known it for as long as I can remember.Wood to the blade.

**********

When the yellow-haired boy’s words dropped into my ears, they would not land there – instead, they hovered like a hummingbird working its needle-thin beak into and out of the flower. I recognized the steady buzzing of the whoosh-whoosh-whoosh of my pulse as it loomed large, affecting my ability to hear. Instinctively I knew that something had been spoken which would alter the world as I saw it – something that would split time in two pieces like halves of a log on a chopping block, axe to wedge and crack! Had I looked down at the floor at that moment, I’m nearly certain Before and After would have been lying there.

With the whoosh still looming large, I believe I might have uttered something ridiculous, like:

Areyousurereallysure and pleasedon’ttellanyone because I was talking fast and foolish and fearful.

His brown eyes, registering deep pain by the way they seemed to snap backwards into his head, did the answering for him. I babbled on senselessly, speaking without punctuation – without pause for intake of breath (where was my breath, anyway?) for far too long, but who was watching the clock any longer in a world where time had been split in half? What was the point?

I had a problem. I had a very big problem.
Before and After were, after all, lying at my feet.

**********

Courage: from the Latin cor for heart

Integrity: from the Latin integritatem for wholeness

I was going to need a lot of this – a lot of heart; that much I could see. What I could not see, though, not yet, was that the blonde boy standing on the other side of the room, huddled up between the dresser and the bedroom door (in position to flee?), already possessed more heart than I on my best day.

This was far from my best day. My best day was on sabbatical somewhere out west where it could breathe. My best day had deserted me and was sunning itself by some pool in Arizona, sipping filtered water infused with lemons and limes.

My brain, scrambling like it had just come front and center with a word problem, refused – refused! – to assimilate the information placed in front of me. Instead, it pulled me off to the side and whispered a million different reasons why this could. not. be. true. I wanted to resist; surely some part of me wanted to resist – wanted to review the evidence I’d seen on the horizon, building strength like a Nebraska storm cloud in August, wanted to acknowledge that those inklings had been spot-on – but I dared not trust myself. If I remembered nothing else from those years and years of collective pastors’ voices ringing in my ears, I remembered what was etched in my mind like a tattoo: Our hearts are deceitful and wicked beyond measure. They are never to be trusted.Which of us was deceived? Which of us – the boy huddled by the door, ready to flee, or the mother clasping the wooden bed post to keep from falling – which one of us was party to a lie?

It is said somewhere that courage is the foundation of integrity.

That must mean that the one who knows who he is at the heart is the one who is whole.

Oh. God.

Then where did that leave me?

**********

With Jesus, we find the power to hold the pain of life until it transforms us.

– Fr. Richard Rohr
I needed a plan. I needed a way to get control of this thing – to get on top of it, to make it submit, to make it cry uncle and relent, Okay! Okay! You win! Because the only thing worse than not having control is the realization that you never had it.

The words had been spoken.

I couldn’t put the genie back in the bottle,
the toothpaste back in the tube,
the bullet back in the gun.

The words had been spoken.

Fear came fast to the surface, blowing bubbles like a swimmer as she empties her lungs of the last bit of air that has served her well below but will fail her now.

The words had been spoken.

No longer was this simply a question that raced like Flo Jo around and around the edges of my brain until it grew tired and retreated into the locker room for a time. No longer was Denial my partner in crime, because it had been detained and arrested and carried off in handcuffs in the back of a squad car. Fat lot of good you did me, Denial. Fat lot of good. You simply delayed the inevitable.

Yes, the words had been spoken – had pierced the lie and lanced the festering sore in hopes of a remedy, yet I was still blind to their efficacy.

It would be a while, still.

**********

When I was four years old at play in the sandbox, a neighbor’s rooster the size of a small goat flogged me, knocking me flat on my back to the ground. I remember very little of this other than a wild flurry of feathers and claws and beak atop my face – and someone screaming. Maybe the scream was mine, although I think I was too paralyzed to make much of any kind of sound – too paralyzed to make any kind of movement. So I lay there and waited for a rescue, unaware that my bottom lip and chin were victims of those massive claws digging in with the tenacity of fish hooks. A short while later a loud pop was followed by an explosion of feathers, releasing me to put my chubby fingers up to my face to probe the now throbbing gashes that would go on to be stitched and, later, leave permanent trails. It was years before I understood the danger in that split-second decision my father was forced to make as he stood way up at the house – years before I had children of my own to remind me that sometimes – many times – we parents are simply flying blind (or, if you prefer, relying on faith). Most days, to be honest, there’s not much difference.

My tow-headed boy’s words were out. He was out. The rooster was back, but this time, I was the parent flying blind. This time, I had a decision to make that was nothing short of putting a bullet in a monster. If my aim were off by just a hair, then the consequences could be disastrous. He might be left bleeding, blind, scarred for life – or worse. It dawned on me then that I needed to move in close and fast, to cross the room that had at once become no less than the Grand Canyon of chasms, to make that leap and not look down.

This was not a fine time for paralysis. Feathers were going to fly.

Moving toward my son, smoking gun in hand, I crossed the room – not tentatively but decisively, not gingerly but with a boldness that came from some unknown (to me) place. I’d put a bullet in a monster – before it could jump him, before it could slice away the tender flesh and leave a gaping wound. It was a split-second, flying blind decision. It was all I knew to do, and it had to be enough.

Wrapping him in my arms, I welcomed his weeping against me. Wrapping him in my arms, I shushed him, clucking like a mother hen as she gathers her chicks close to her body. Wrapping him in my arms, I tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in my throat – a lump that I was certain was born of the dust fragments of my shattered heart.

Once that dust settled, once that clearing began, once I was able to get the lay of the land – and with that rooster dead and gone – I would see that his coming out broke my heart wide open so that more of God could get in.

But this day, it was enough to cling to one another in that haze, to fly blind without knowing where to land … and to wait.

**********

Ring the bells that still can ringForget your perfect offeringThere is a crack in everythingThat’s how the light gets in …Every heart, every heartto love will comebut like a refugee.

From Leonard Cohen’s Anthem

The wallpaper on my Mac is a rotating series of photos I’ve uploaded over the past few years, so I frequently stop what I’m doing to stare at the images scrolling through. Most faces are smiling – open, even, like sunlight – with eyes squinted and teeth bared in unadulterated joy; others are pensive, thoughtful, filled with contented Mona Lisa mystery. These are the shots that elicit my own feelings of gratitude, the ones that assure me of future promise, of hope – the ones most likely to tease my insecurities out into the open, to pat them on the back and whisper that maybe, just maybe, I did okay as their mom. A few, though – the ones of the yellow-haired boy at twelve, fourteen, or sixteen, even – cannot be so easily celebrated. His eyes, flat and dull like a 1920s penny, stare out of his haunted face – a look not altogether dissimilar to photos snapped of Holocaust survivors or of Russian orphans, or war refugees. It’s impossible to read into those faces anything but the despair of a thousand betrayals, and yet this is the entirety of his face. My son’s face. Eyes, mouth, cheeks, nose – all are caught up into that one word: Despair. The war that rages in his soul plays itself out on the landscape of his lifeless eyes, and, sadly, that is the thing. How had I let that colorless portrait escape me?

As Richard Rohr says, we cannot see what we are not ready to see, especially those things which are hidden in plain sight.

And yet, Jesus asks the blind beggar, who is both blind and beggar, What do you want me to do for you? And this man says, simply, I want my sight restored. Because, at one time, he could see.

But once he sees again, it will all look different.

**********

When I took the dog for a walk through the neighborhood yesterday, I happened to notice a festive fall wreath on the front door of one particularly unfriendly couple’s home. Upon closer examination (which meant my peering at the door from practically across the street, since a canine’s errant treading of paws upon their perfectly manicured lawn elicits anger and threats to both owner and pet), I was able to make out the word Welcome on a little sign affixed to the wreath. Welcome. Really? That’s ironic, I thought to myself, as I gave wide berth to their property and made my way on down the street.

But before my feet had hit my driveway, it dawned on me that, on any given day, I’m also guilty of saying one thing while conveying something shockingly different by my actions.

I have loved etymology ever since I took an intro to Linguistics in college. Last year I learned that the term holy originates from the same root word as whole. That discovery offered me a new-and-improved way to think about God in His wholeness – asthe One Who is fully integrated within Himself. God, the perfect integer. Jesus, the Son, who lived out a life of perfect wholeness in his humanity as communicated via the Gospels. Jesus, who lived as he spoke and who spoke as he lived.

Whole.
Integrated.
Holy.

Yet, for a couple of years, my tow-headed boy would go on to bear the brunt of my un-holiness, my fractured thinking, my stumbling and bumbling inability to align my words and my actions surrounding his truth telling.

His ears would go on to register the I love you coming from my mouth, yet his heart would grapple with the unspoken but well communicated but spawned by my actions.

I love you BUT let’s look into reparative therapy (I don’t love this part of you) +

I love you BUT let’s keep this a secret (I don’t love this part of you) +

I love you BUT let’s beg God to fix this (I don’t love this part of you) =

I don’t love you.

Love the sinner but hate his sin is a lie. But I couldn’t see that, then. I had mud in my eyes. Like the blind man whose sight Jesus was in the process of restoring, I saw people “like trees walking around,” which is not seeing people at all.

I saw through a glass darkly.

It would be a while, still.

There are times when taking a break from writing is all I want to do, like when memories are forced to conjure up disquieting images the way King Saul pled with the Witch of Endor to summon the spirit of Samuel, dusty and irritated, from the grave.

King Saul would go on to pay a price for this.

Images give birth to thoughts and then thoughts to the words which, once expressed, we claim a sort of parental responsibility for, whether we are prepared for this or not.

Denial became something akin to a ground-fault circuit interruptor when my thoughts threatened to shock my system. Fearing for the tow-headed boy’s life, fearing for his reputation (it was also fear for my own, if truth be told), I spoke over him words – marching orders, really – that coaxed darkness up from the ground that threatened to swallow him whole – that threatened to send him to his death.

Fear had had its say, and in those dusty, irritated, grave-words, shame was born.

This son of mine – this one who was always so eager to please, so agreeable and cooperative – looked down at the floor, unblinking, and kept his eyes there for a long time. What he saw, I couldn’t know.

What I did know, though, was that I couldn’t see a damned thing.

**********

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies?
Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. – Luke 12:6

The baby bird needed help.

I spotted it from a good distance, back when my eyes boasted 20/20 vision, as I was on my way back from an afternoon spent at the pool with my friends.

Rolling up to the fluffy gray ball on my banana seat bike, I quickly surveyed the situation. He was sitting in the middle of one of the neighborhood streets, no mama bird to be found. His dull yellow beak was open in a little V, and he was breathing rapidly, his downy little feathers moving up and down so fast that they seemed to be in constant motion.

I didn’t sit for long but gingerly pushed down the kickstand so as not to startle the quivering creature who was now just a few feet in front of me, and then I deftly – and silently – climbed over the seat and off the bike. My heart was racing at this point as I was contemplating my next move. I had a difficult decision to make, and yet my 11-year old brain knew of only one thing to do.

Scooping him up and setting him in my pool bag in one swift movement, I knew only one thing: I had to quickly get this bird home before he died. It was then I heard the chirping from somewhere above me, although when I looked up, I saw nothing. Instead of riding on the street, I made a quick left and departed the road for the well worn dirt path made by all the other bikes heading to and from the pool. Coasting down the hill while clutching the pool bag with one hand, I heard the chirps becoming louder and more frantic. It never dawned on me that the ruckus had anything to do with my precious cargo. I was in the zone. I was going to save this bird. Rounding the curve once the hill flattened out, I pedaled like a girl with her hair on fire.

My mother met me at the porch door after she heard me calling out for her from two houses over. With a furrowed brow, she peered into the bag I held up to her through the screen. “Can we save it? I found it in front of the Thomas’s house, on the road.” My mother, who has always had a soft spot for animals, ushered me inside with a warning that baby birds are rarely abandoned by their mothers, even when it looked like they were. “Usually the mother is somewhere close by, watching, making sure her baby is safe.” Pulling a cardboard box out of the storage closet, she instructed me to line it with a towel and set the bird in it. After adding a small dish of water to the box, I sat on the porch floor to watch the traumatized baby, holding vigil and saying prayers until nightfall.

The next morning found me racing to the box in the hopes that a miracle had occurred – that the tiny thing had drunk some water, at least. My mother found me a few minutes later as I knelt, crying, by the cardboard coffin. She listened as I recounted how I’d tried to save this orphan from certain death, then she showed me where to bury it in the yard.

The next day she told me about the way of birds when they are learning to fly.

Years later I would find myself needing to choose between putting my son in a box or helping him learn to fly.

**********

Note from Meredith on May 31, 2017:

It took so much out of me to write this a few years back that I had to stop. Reading back through it now, I can see tremendous growth, thank God. Even then, I knew that God would be faithful to continue pulling me forward in truth. I needed to experience all those feelings and fears in order to join this current pilgrimage and be there to help my son learn to spread his wings and fly.

I grew up as a missionary kid in Brazil, and my family was very conservative, both spiritually and politically. I began to question many of the positions my family took as I matured, never wavering in my faith, but definitely feeling that God’s mercy and love were wider than I had been raised to believe. I began to question the church’s position on homosexuality many years ago, as I met more and more LGBTQ people who were wonderful, caring, loving people, and who didn’t fit the stereotype usually presented in Christian circles. You know, deviants, promiscuous, out to “recruit” our children. I began to learn more about the science of sexual orientation, which completely put to rest any doubts in my mind that someone could be “turned gay” by mere persuasion or influence. After knowing LGBTQ people, I had long since seen the ridiculousness of the argument that sexual orientation was a choice.

My daughter’s coming out eight years ago led me on a spiritual journey to really understand what the Bible truly says about homosexuality. I started with my love for my daughter, and worked with my love for God to find a place of peace and understanding. I spent two years reading, talking to Christian friends and pastors, spending time with LGBTQ people, praying, and trying to understand what the Bible really said about loving, monogamous same-sex relationships. I now have an equals (=) sign as a bumper sticker, and a closet filled with rainbow t-shirts and buttons, so I guess you could say I have resolved my questions and come out as the proud parent of a gay child.

Since that time, I have felt a strong sense of calling to work with other parents on a similar journey to mine. I helped to start a support group at my former church for parents of LGBTQ children, served as the co-chair of the Oakland/East Bay PFLAG chapter for two years, and am currently serving as a co-facilitator for a brand new satellite meeting for the Seattle PFLAG chapter. I also am involved in several private Facebook groups of Christian moms of LGBTQ children and serve as an admin for two of them, and I have served as a resource parent for the Marin Foundation. I am also advocating for full inclusion of LGBTQ Christians in my current church.

God has taken me out of my comfort zone and given me an exciting new adventure; all because I was given the gift of a gay daughter!

I was 17 when I found out I was expecting my first child. I experienced the typical emotions of being a bit scared, worried, and of course I was happy. I knew that most people would disapprove given my age and background, but that didn’t matter to me. I was going to be a Mom and make sure that this baby knew they were loved. I knew the road would be long and hard, but I also knew it would be okay over all. I gave my boyfriend at the time the chance to leave, but told him if he left that there would be no in and out of this baby’s life. Either he would be a part of the life we created or not, but definitely no half assed in and out. He chose to stay and we will be celebrating 17 years of marriage this June.

When I was 18 I gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl. We named her Emily Paige. She had a rough start, she was born with some heart defects but by the age of 3 grew out of them. Her Dad and I married when she was 4 months old, babies ourselves, her Dad had graduated high school just 3 days before the wedding. As she grew we noticed she wasn’t your typical little girly girl, but I didn’t expect her to be given that I grew up as a tomboy myself.

Days after her 1st birthday we found out we were pregnant again. 9 months later I gave birth to another baby girl we named Caitlyn. We always knew Cait was “different” we just weren’t sure how.And by Emily’s 4th birthday she was a big sister again and had another little sister named Lindsey.

When the kids were young, I faithfully went to church, prayed, tithed, did all the Christianly duties one was supposed to. I was attending a church that preached hate towards gay people and preached how they could be cured by prayer and what not. When the Emily was 4 I remember thinking that if I loved my kids as much as I do and did, and God supposedly loved us more than that, how could he hate a group of people for loving someone of the same sex. I spoke with my husband about I quite a bit and we decided to leave the church.

Once Emily hit puberty she became really depressed. We tried helping the best we could but she never seemed to come out of it. At the age of 14 she came to us and told us she needed to talk to us. We sat down and told us she was transgender. We immediately hugged our son, Zachary, and welcomed him with open arms. A few days later after discussing with him how he wanted to let friends and family know, we made an announcement and told everyone in our lives that Zach was our son and they could either love and support us or they knew where the door was. Some left, and it did hurt, but I reminded Zach that they were unable to truly accept him for who he is so we didn’t need people like that in our lives.

Zach started going to a group here for LGBTQ Youth. He would come back with stories about how parents disowned their kids for being the way they are. It broke my heart and my husband and I decided to open our home to kids that need a safe place to stay.

The next year, Caitlyn had just turned 13 and was battling depression as well. She came to me one night and told me she was a lesbian. Unlike her brother, she didn’t want an announcement made, but preferred to tell people on her own or to just kind of surprise them in conversation. She started attending the group her brother did and is doing great now.

Zach is 17 now, and has been in a relationship with his transgender girlfriend for 4 years now. They have been together since before either of them came out as transgender. Olivia moved in with us last Oct. her family isn’t exactly accepting of her so we are glad to give her that love and support she was missing at her house.

Caitlyn is 15 and is thriving as well. She has a girlfriend and they have been dating for a couple of years. We recently went rounds with her school because they denied the GSA club she was trying to start. We will hopefully be getting it started soon, she needs to go before her principal again before it is approved. We had to get GLSEN involved and threaten legal action, but the superintendent has advised the principal that the club needs to be allowed.

My baby, Lindsey, is 12 and isn’t interested in anyone right now, and that is fine, I prefer to keep it that way for a while!

As a Mom to these wonderful 4 kids, I’m happy to see them happy. All I want for them is to be able to be themselves and to be happy with who they are. I know it takes a lot of courage to come out as young as they did, and the road hasn’t always been easy, but they know that this mama bear will always be here for them and have their backs.

I ended up posting about it on my own Facebook page and Sandi Queen blocked me from the post which made my rant about her post disappear. Fortunately a friend of mine had copied and saved it.

Initially, I was hoping that my rant would bring Sandi Queen to her senses and cause her to delete her post. Sadly that wasn’t the case. She didn’t delete it – instead she blocked me from her “Queen Homeschool Supplies Inc.” page.

The post is still there and there are more than 1,800 moms in my private Facebook group who can still see it.

She can run but she cannot hide.

So … I thought I would share the whole thing here with you because I would love to see many of you sharing her post and letting her know what you think about it.

Let’s keep Sandi busy blocking people who are not offended by the mere existence of LGBT people and who have a higher standard than “Not Hating”.

Let the world know that there are a lot of decent people out here – many who are Christians – who are not offended by a company recognizing that decent LGBT people exist and that decent same sex couples exist and are living decent lives.

Here is the “warning” Sandi Queen posted about Khan Academy:

It’s very rare that I would ever call out a competitor on this page – in fact, I don’t recall ever having done so before. I’ve never looked at Khan Academy and don’t even know what sorts of resources they offer, as I use the books I write for my kids, which are the ones we publish. But I saw this in a homeschool group that I’m in and felt it was important to warn other Christian homeschoolers, as I know I’ve seen people mention this program here. (Here is the link about Khan Academy that she shared)

And here is what I posted on my own Facebook page (which included Sandi’s post and what disappeared when Sandi blocked me from her company page).

This post by Sandi Queen and so many of the comments it garnered are very upsetting to me.

There are many Christians who do not agree with Sandi and if you study original language and historical context you will see that the bible does not condemn a loving, monogamous same sex relationship anymore than it condemns a loving, monogamous, opposite sex relationship.

It’s ridiculous to think that recognizing same sex marriage exists is somehow going to harm a child. AND I am sick of Christians who say they don’t hate LGBT people but call for a boycott anytime a company does anything to indicate that decent LGBT people exist or that there are any decent same sex couples who might love each other well and be living good lives and have a family and are good parents. Maybe you can argue that is not hate – but is “not hating” really the bar you want to set??? Is “not hating” good enough for you??? When someone goes to the trouble to talk about being a Christian I would think their bar would be higher than that.

My gay son is in a committed relationship – he is engaged to get married – he is a good person – he lives a good life – he has a job and does good work – he makes the people he works for and his friends and his family proud of him – proud to know him – proud to have him in our life. He isn’t living some kind of terrible life – he isn’t doing a bunch of immoral things – he isn’t causing harm to anyone because of the person he loves and plans to marry. He exists!! He deserves to be acknowledged and represented. He deserves to have equal rights and to be protected against discrimination and oppression. He is a human being and the kind of message that Sandi is putting out into a community of 1,000s of people strips away my son’s human dignity and I’m sick of it!!!

SO STOP IT PEOPLE!!!

Khan Academy is not doing anything wrong by using a same sex couple as an example in an imagined scenario.

If you think it is wrong to be in a same sex marriage then don’t marry someone of the same sex. But stop trying to erase LGBT people from existence and stop spreading your toxic and damaging beliefs around to others.

LGBT people do exist and same sex couples do exist and you being offended by their existence is not a loving position to take.

SO STOP IT!!

If you don’t want to buy from Khan then that is fine but please stop spreading your hate – just keep it to yourself.

There may be some LGBT youth reading the crap you are putting out there and it might be what pushes them over the edge to stop being a Christian or to start hating themselves or to even harm themselves.

SO STOP IT!!

You are doing harm and it is wrong!!

And here are the comments that were made. There are a few that call Sandi out and I am grateful to them. There was one woman who even stated that she is a lesbian and Sandi replied “we are all sinners” – which made me sick and angry and broken hearted all at the same time. Unfortunately most of the comments were from homeschooling moms who were “so grateful” that Sandi had warned them about Khan.

I’ll let you read the comments for yourself:

Beth Dickinson Chretien:

Thank you for sharing. That’s very disappointing. We have used them for extra help with math.

Sandi Queen:

You’re welcome.

Charlotte Clevelle:

Yes…truth needs to be told..thank you…going to share…

Sara Ellison Vogltanz:

This is so sad! It really had been a great resource!

Sandi Queen:

Please let’s not use this post as a jump off point to talk about other math products.

Charla Shortt Helton:

Oh my goodness!! Thank you so much for sharing!!

Joy Brusetti:

I would think if you’ve raised your children correctly that it wouldn’t matter. Obviously with younger children this may be an issue but if you’re having the right conversations with your older children they will know what is wrong and what is right and will understand that it’s just how the sinful world is now. Not to excuse anything, but to prepare them for what they will face in the real world, especially if they go to a secular college! Just saying.

Sandi Queen:

While I would agree with that in part, I also see how exposure to ungodly teachings, particularly in a child’s formative years, can desensitize him to worldly philosophies.

Joy Brusetti:

I definitely understand that. With my teens, the things going on in the world around them and what the Bible says about them are a constant conversation. They point out things that even I may overlook sometimes.

MeriBeth Glenn:

It’s not about raising your kids right. It’s about supporting the company that is supposed to be a good resource. Obviously it’s not a good resource for those of us seeking a specific type of curriculum….. if it’s not Biblical.

Rachel Barrett:

When Christian teenagers tell their parents that they are attracted to the same sex, and have been since middle school, it’s not just about how they are raised. Sadly, I really think there are huge issues with hormonal problems in our food and environment that are wreaking havoc.

AmandaJo Ross Haugen:

Thank you for sharing.

MeriBeth Glenn:

Thank you for sharing

Jay N Michele Watson:

This was the one program my daughter could understand for math. She is already struggling and I felt so happy I found something she could get. Sigh. I don’t plan to stop it. She is a teen so hoping she and I can work through this

Kimberley Bee:

We stopped using Khan only because of the fact that they are aligned with Common Core. It made me sad because my girls so enjoyed practicing skills for math on it.

Crystal Gilliam:

We used to use Khan and found it to be helpful. I’m saddened that this is being shoved down our throats.

Sarah Marostica:

Wow. Khan Academy is a wonderful resource. Sad to see so much hatred. Because of a question about women having lunch with their wives?!? Happens every day guys, get used to it. LOVE WINS

Sandi Queen:

All sorts of things happen every day, but that doesn’t mean I want to make them part of my young child’s educational curriculum if they are not something our family agrees with. In our house, Jesus Christ wins. If our curriculum choices are inline with what we believe He would be pleased with, I am happy to expose them to my children’s impressionable minds and hearts. If not, then I’m not. I know not everyone agrees with this sentiment, but many here do. For them, I felt it was important to share. 🙂

Kimberley Bee:

No hatred here, just don’t agree how CC presents and teaches their math. At first Khan said they were not going to do that but alas, they buckled under pressure.

Debra Jackson Gibson:

They did not just buckle they accepted money from The Gates Foundation. Bill Gates has his hands deep into the Common Core agenda and masks it as helping to educate our children. It is no more than indoctrination and data mining. As for me and my House we will serve AND trust the Lord. Thank you Sandi Queen for standing firm!!!!

Francinia Flores:

I’m tired of people using love wins to justify sinful behaviors. As a Catholic I believe that love did win. And it won on a Good Friday for the salvation of all. And I’m not judging but if your ok with your children being exposed to that then fine but I’m not. So thank you Sandi for the heads up on the curriculum!

Beth Piontek:

Love does win, however, God’s truth as He states in the Bible is the definition of true love. Truth without grace isn’t love and grace without truth isn’t love. There must be a balance and the Lord clearly states all throughout Scripture that homosexuality is a sin. I thank you, Sandi, for informing us because my daughter has been practicing on there lately. Certainly not any longer.

Ronda Wilson Hinzman:

Thanks for the heads up. I was considering using some of their subjects this coming school year.

Danielle Hull:

Dana Hanley I think you mentioned them?

Marilyn Fowler Brownjohn:

I’m Christian and I have no issue with it. Children know their sexual orientation at a young age. You can’t change orientation. Being gay is a normal variation on the human spectrum.

And Christ never uttered one word about being gay. He said”love thy neighbour”, not “love only the people you agree with who think like you”.

Ken Crystal Hatlewick:

I understand where you are coming from Marilyn Fowler Brownjohn, I really do. As a parent I appreciate knowing what is in the curriculum that my children are being taught. I think as homeschool parents we are blessed to be able to get to see things like this. Thank you Sandi Queen for keeping us informed on things like this. Blessings to you all.

Sandi Queen:

Thank you, Marilyn, but I respectfully disagree. When I read Romans 1:24 and onward, I see that God’s Word says that this behavior is unnatural and vile. I know some who would disagree, and even some people I love in my extended family would disagree. That’s OK. I’m not out to argue this point; I just wanted to warn those who, like myself, would want to be forewarned about something they believe to be unbiblical in their children’s curriculum.

Beth Dickinson Chretien:

Just because you think something is wrong according to the Bible or don’t agree with somebody does NOT mean that you hate the person. God does command us to love our neighbor as ourselves, that in no way means that we can’t disagree with them.

Mirka Luhrs:

Agree

Melissa Anne Tarpley:

It says it – word for word that men having sexual relations with other men and women having sexual relations with other women is a sin and people will not go to heaven unless they repent and change their ways. If God said it then it is so.

Marilyn Fowler Brownjohn:

The old testament. Christ said he came to fulfill the Old Testament and create a New Testament. And I said Christ very specifically, as that is who Christians purport to follow. Show me where Christ said one word about it. Not other people. Christ.

Marilyn Fowler Brownjohn:

And Christ didn’t write Romans. A man did.

Jennifer Fox:

I am thrilled that Khan is being inclusive. They are promoting tolerance, acceptance, the real world.

Mirka Luhrs:

Agree

Melissa Anne Tarpley:

Being sinful and disobeying God is sinful, not being accepting and tolerated, and things in the real world is what is wrong with the world.

Jennifer Fox :

So, I guess all the people that won’t use Khan now, also don’t allow their kids to participate in and / or watch ballet/ ice skating/ listen to music, classical and otherwise because these are all areas that have a strong gay presence.
If you participate in any of these, you better stop now.

Brandy Conlin:

I agree Jennifer. This actually makes me support Khan even more now, I have an lgtb teen, and will always goes for the product/company that supports inclusion rather than the one that spreads intolerance.

Sandie Griffitts:

Something I’ve contemplated for a while. Everyone seems to think that to love as Jesus loved means we need to support the sin choices of others.
Make no mistake, Jesus did not condone sin. When sinners encountered the love of Jesus when he was here in the form of flesh, their lives were forever changed. He loved them so much he did not leave them in their sin, but led them out of darkness and into light.
That is how to love as Jesus loved.

Kathy Layden:

Is a person born hard of hearing a sinner too? I can tell you with every single inch of my body that I was born this way and I used to love Jesus and served with all I was, until Christians broke my heart. I can’t change, trust me when I say, I tried with all of my night for 38 years.

Sandie Griffitts:

I think you know the answer to that. And I know you are trying to imply gender identity issues are something a person is born with. And I don’t think we need to discuss that.

Having your heart broken by Christians is not the same as having it broken by Christ. When we allow the hurt caused by people to turn our hearts against God, the question is who were we serving to begin with. And I say that as someone who has been very hurt by my brothers and sisters in Christ.

Kathy Layden:

I am a lesbian. I can’t change that. I wish it was simple. I tried for 38 yrs.

Steph Hunt:

Kathy, are you familiar with Justin Lee and the Gay Christian network? He is a gay Christian and minister, with your background you may appreciate what he has to say. I am a straight Christian but I strongly feel that most Christians have lost sight of love thy neighbor. There is too much scorn and turning away from people and not enough love. I have Justin in my friends list if you are interested, his testimony is touching and they are welcoming of everyone as it should be.

Kristyn Baker:

Thanks so much for sharing! We haven’t used Khan, but I’ve always heard of it as an option and considered it.

Mirka Luhrs:

I like Khan, my kids too. I am quite disappointed with this article and Sandi. We are all the same and we should respect each other.
Jesus would want us to be like him.

Jennifer Fox:

Yes, let’s not keep the intolerance going. I too am disappointed in the article. It’s just disheartening.

Charlotte Clevelle:

She has not shown any disrespect….we just do not choose to follow or use their products or …agree with their agenda…..and we have the right to say how we feel as long as we do it with respect… Jesus walked in love and purity….He was very adamant when He spoke of the Garden when God created one man and one woman….no need to continue comment…you spoke yr opinion and we have ours…. We have a right to speak as well….

Joy Tony Lucas:

I kind of had to skim through the article… What was it just that one problem they’re pointing out?

Jennifer Fox

Yes, that’s it.

Joy Tony Lucas:

I just mean it’s a lot of drama over one question. .. had they considered that it might just be a typo. Because that NEVER happens. …

Terry West Suchodolski:

Thank you Sandi Queen for warning us!!

Brenda Martin:

My children finished last May, in college now. Having to deal with this now.

Stacey Melton:

Thank you for sharing Sandi Queen! Protection is LOVE.

Joe Beth Hackett:

So is there a good alternative?? My kids love watching a video sometimes if they aren’t understanding me…

Sandi Queen:

No idea, but we are not inviting comments referring people to other curriculums.

Joe Beth Hackett:

Sorry I don’t use it as a curriculum but as a help so I didn’t see it that way. Feel free to delete if you need to.

Siobhan Holcombe:

Sandi Queen, and this is just another reason why I will continue to support your business. You stand up for the faith and you stand on solid ground. Thank you for being a voice. You will always have our business. 🙂

Belinda Blair:

Thank you Sandi

Kathy Layden:

I haven’t read the article but I used a lot of Sandi’s homeschooling material while raising my children. It also completely breaks my heart to see people so against something you can not change. I loved serving Christ for so long until I couldn’t stop what or who I was. If I was born black, it would be the same thing. Being gay is not a sin, it’s not different that being born hard of hearing or blind. Or black. It is a choice to be hurtful 😢

Belinda Blair:

Being born black is not a sin, but according to God’s Word homosexuality is. However, we are to never hate or be cruel to anyone. As believers in Christ we must walk in truth…. God’s Word is truth. I don’t always understand God’s ways, but I know my thoughts are not His thoughts, and His ways are not my ways. He knows what is good for me, therefore I will trust in Him. May we walk in the light as he is in the light.

Sandi Queen:

PLEASE DO NOT SHARE THIS POST outside of this group. If you want to share, please just click on the link and share from there. I am getting trolls who are not Christians who have seen shared posts sending me nasty messages because I don’t believe LGBT people are equal to me, because I am a hater, etc. That’s just not true, and that’s not why I posted this at all. As a Christian homeschool parent myself, I posted this to let others who may be concerned about this know about it. If that’s not you, that’s fine. That doesn’t make you a hater because you believe differently any more than it makes me a hater because I want to warn others about this. We publish Christian curriculum and Bible studies. Obviously, we are going to stand for the Bible and against that which the Bible speaks against. Thank you for understanding.

Kathy Layden:

I am a gay woman, I will not share because that’s unfair. I am sorry anyone is bashing you. It truly is sad for me that I am seen as a sinner but I have always enjoyed your products. I hope in time you can meet people and see we are just as normal as everyone else.

Sandi Queen:

We are all sinners, Kathy Layden. That’s what Christ died for.

Stacey Melton:

We are all sinners

MeriBeth Glenn:

Love the sinner not the sin.

Melissa René Everet:

I don’t see you as a sinner, Kathy Layden. My heart is broken for those here who are twisting God’s perfect love and attempting to turn it against you. Forgive them, they know not what they do. Truly.

MeriBeth Glenn:

Uhm…. we are all sinners. You sin. I sin. She sins. James 2:10 sin is sin. It doesn’t matter what we think, if God says it’s sin, it’s sin. And sin is what Christ died for…. so it doesn’t matter what is twisted or turned against anyone— if you believe in your heart and confess with your mouth that Jesus Christ is the son of God then you will be saved. Sin is sin and saved is saved. It’s not hard.

Stacey Melton:

Kathy Layden are you saved?

Melissa René Everet:

Stacey Melton are you judging?

Stacey Melton:

Judging what? I’m asking a question? Those of you that disagree will always try to twist things and say it’s hate or judging, when it’s actually the opposite. I was asking bc her first comment about serving Jesus. I was NOT judging, and it’s really sad that people like you think it is. And btw I can judge things, it is my right.I judge truth from lies and deceit about everyday.

Lori Schuetz:

My son uses it daily and I have used it for my own schooling…I have not once seen what this article refers to. Thank you for sharing. We have used some of their stuff. Bit not any more. I wasn’t aware that they are now common core aligned either.Cheryl Smith Tredway:Thank you for sharing this. I do not plan on using this vendor either because of their embrace of CCS long ago.Jackie Betancourt:Oh my word, thank you for sharing this, Sandi Queen. 😔

Josh Standifird:

We quit using this resource when I heard blasphemy in one of the videos.

Lesa Fillingim:

Being that Bill Gates is a founder…. not interested.

Judy Keplinger:

King James Version
Romans 16: 17 & 18
17 Now I beseech you, brethren, mark them which cause divisions and offenses contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them.
18 For they that are such serve not our Lord JESUS Christ, but their own belly; and by their good words and fair speeches deceive the hearts of the simple.

Nitza Ravé:

I have NEVER liked Khan Academy.

Brandy Conlin:

And as a mother of an LGTB teen whom I love and support very much I am very disheartened to see hate and intolerance spread on this page under the false guise of religion and “warning”. I have purchased Queen homeschool curriculum to use with my kids but it is now tossed out and I will never spend another cent on this company. Khan on the otherhand will be used even more in my home. I will always support and encourage a program that supports inclusion.

Ana Daniela Myer:

I am with you. So much hate and intolerance from “Christians” . I will never understand that. Keep hiding behind “scripture”. This whole thread is so sad.

Ronda Wilson Hinzman:

Eph 6:10-17, Sandi Queen

Dana O’Quinn Adams:

I haven’t ever promoted Khan Academy. Never will.

Sara Lv:

I’ve always been leery of it bc it’s funded by Gates…

Sandie Griffitts:

So, when we agree with scripture, that what God calls sin is sin, that makes us hateful. God makes it pretty clear that those who continue in sin don’t have a relationship with him, but somehow in the eyes of some folks, it is “loving” to “tolerate” and “support” people who commit certain sins, even tho it means their sin will keep them from a relation with God. That isn’t loving.

Brandy Conlin:

And clearly you are the type of person who’s child would be fearful of coming out to. Many teens that know the acceptance that occurs in my home and how easy it was for my daughter to come out have done so with me. They have told me they fear their parents will stop loving them, will never support them etc. A few have struggled with the idea of suicide, feeling they are better off killing themselves than telling their own parents that they are lgtb. It is closed minded, intolerant parents that say drivel like you have that have kids terrified to be honest with their own families. When the day of judgement comes all of those who think they have the right to judge here on earth are in for a rude awakening. I believe fully that He won’t find ya’ll as righteous as you all think you are.

Sandie Griffitts:

You sound very confident of what a horrible, self righteous person I must be. Interestingly, one of my daughters had a friend when she was in beauty school who is openly bisexual. He always referred to me as his mom. He even invited me to his graduation.

Ana Daniela Myer:

Who are you to judge another’s person relationship with God? Are you God? I see a lot of folks here throwing stones so even IF it was a sin….. I am sure none of you are without it. Isn’t that why Jesus died for you?

***************************************************************

Serendipitydodah for Moms is a private Facebook group created as an extension of the Serendipitydodah blog. The group is private so only members can see who is in the group and what is posted in the group. The group was started in June 2014 and presently has more than 1,700 members. For more info email lizdyer55@gmail.com

On the night of November 20, 2001, a conversation held over Instant Messenger changed our lives forever. Our twelve year old son messaged me in my office from the computer in his bedroom.

Ryan says: can i tell u something

Mom says: Yes I am listening

Ryan says: well i don’t know how to say this really but, well……, i can’t keep lying to you about myself. I have been hiding this for too long and i sorta have to tell u now. By now u probably have an idea of what i am about to say.

Ryan says: I am gay

Ryan says: i can’t believe i just told you

Mom says: Are you joking?

Ryan says: no

Ryan says: i thought you would understand because of uncle don

Mom says: of course I would

Mom says: but what makes you think you are?

Ryan says: i know i am

Ryan says: i don’t like hannah

Ryan says: it’s just a cover-up

Mom says: but that doesn’t make you gay…

Ryan says: i know

Ryan says: but u don’t understand

Ryan says: i am gay

Mom says: tell me more

Ryan says: it’s just the way i am and it’s something i know

Ryan says: u r not a lesbian and u know that. it is the same thing

Mom says: what do you mean?

Ryan says: i am just gay

Ryan says: i am that

Mom says: I love you no matter what

Ryan says: i am white not black

Ryan says: i know

Ryan says: i am a boy not a girl

Ryan says: i am attracted to boys not girls

Ryan says: u know that about yourself and i know this

Mom says: what about what God thinks about acting on these desires?

Ryan says: i know

Mom says: thank you for telling me

Ryan says: and i am very confused about that right now

Mom says: I love you more for being honest

Ryan says: i know

Ryan says: thanx

We were completely shocked. Not that we didn’t know and love gay people – my only brother had come out to us several years before, and we adored him. But Ryan? He was unafraid of anything, tough as nails, and ALL boy. We had not seen this coming, and the emotion that overwhelmed us, kept us awake at night and, sadly, influenced all of our reactions over the next six years, was FEAR.

We said all the things that we thought loving Christian parents who believed the Bible – the Word of God – should say:

We love you. We will ALWAYS love you. And this is hard. REALLY hard. But we know what God says about this, and so you are going to have to make some really difficult choices.

We love you. We couldn’t love you more. But there are other men who have faced this same struggle, and God has worked in them to change their desires. We’ll get you their books…you can listen to their testimonies. And we will trust God with this.

We love you. We are so glad you are our son. But you are young, and your sexual orientation is still developing. The feelings you’ve had for other guys don’t make you gay. So please don’t tell anyone that you ARE gay. You don’t know who you are yet. Your identity is not that you are gay – it is that you are a child of God.

We love you. Nothing will change that. But if you are going to follow Jesus, holiness is your only option. You are going to have to choose to follow Jesus, no matter what. And since you know what the Bible says, and since you want to follow God, embracing your sexuality is NOT an option.

We thought we understood the magnitude of the sacrifice that we – and God – were asking for. And this sacrifice, we knew, would lead to the abundant life, perfect peace and eternal rewards, even if it was incredibly difficult.

Ryan had always felt intensely drawn to spiritual things; He desired to please God above all else. So, for the first six years, he tried to choose Jesus. Like so many others before him, he pleaded with God to help him be attracted to girls. He memorized Scripture, met with his youth pastor weekly and went to all the youth group events and Bible Studies. He chose to get baptized and filled journals with his prayers. He read all the Christian books that explained where his gay feelings came from and dove into counseling to further discover the origin of his unwanted attraction to other guys. He worked through difficult conflict resolution with Rob and I and invested even more deeply in his friendships with other guys (straight guys) just like the reparative therapy experts advised.

But nothing changed. God didn’t answer Ryan’s prayers – or ours – though we were all believing with faith that the God of the Universe – the God for whom NOTHING is impossible – could easily make Ryan straight. But He did not.

Though our hearts may have been good (we truly thought what we were doing was loving), we did not even give Ryan a chance to wrestle with God, to figure out what HE believed God was telling him through scripture about his sexuality. We had believed firmly in giving each of our four children the space to question Christianity, to decide for themselves if they wanted to follow Jesus, to truly OWN their own faith. But we were too afraid to give Ryan that room when it came to his sexuality, for fear that he’d make the wrong choice.

Basically, we told our son that he had to choose between Jesus and his sexuality. We forced him to make a choice between God and being a sexual person. Choosing God, practically, meant living a lifetime condemned to being alone. As a teenager, he had to accept that he would never have the chance to fall in love, hold hands, have his first kiss or share the intimacy and companionship that we, as his parents, enjoy. We had always told our kids that marriage was God’s greatest earthly gift…but Ryan had to accept that he alone would not be offered that present.

And so, just before his 18th birthday, Ryan, depressed, suicidal, disillusioned and convinced that he would never be able to be loved by God, made a new choice. He decided to throw out his Bible and his faith at the same time, and to try searching for what he desperately wanted – peace – another way. And the way he chose to try first was drugs.

We had – unintentionally – taught Ryan to hate his sexuality. And since sexuality cannot be separated from the self, we had taught Ryan to hate himself. So as he began to use drugs, he did so with a recklessness and a lack of caution for his own safety that was alarming to everyone who knew him.

Suddenly our fear of Ryan someday having a boyfriend (a possibility that honestly terrified me) seemed trivial in contrast to our fear of Ryan’s death, especially in light of his recent rejection of Christianity, and his mounting anger at God.

Ryan started with weed and beer…but in six short months was using cocaine, crack and heroin. He was hooked from the beginning, and his self-loathing and rage at God only fueled his addiction. Shortly after, we lost contact with him. For the next year and a half we didn’t know where he was, or even if he was dead or alive. And during that horrific time, God had our full attention. We stopped praying for Ryan to become straight. We started praying for him to know that God loved him. We stopped praying for him never to have a boyfriend. We started praying that someday we might actually get to know his boyfriend. We even stopped praying for him to come home to us; we only wanted him to come home to God.

By the time our son called us, after 18 long months of silence, God had completely changed our perspective. Because Ryan had done some pretty terrible things while using drugs, the first thing he asked me was this:

Do you think you can ever forgive me? (I told him of course, he was already forgiven. He had ALWAYS been forgiven.)

Do you think you could ever love me again? (I told him that we had never stopped loving him, not for one second. We loved him then more than we had ever loved him.)

Do you think you could ever love me with a boyfriend? (Crying, I told him that we could love him with fifteen boyfriends. We just wanted him back in our lives. We just wanted to have a relationship with him again…AND with his boyfriend.)

And a new journey was begun. One of healing, restoration, open communication and grace. LOTS of grace. And God was present every step of the way, leading and guiding us, gently reminding us simply to love our son, and leave the rest up to Him.

Over the next ten months, we learned to truly love our son. Period. No buts. No conditions. Just because he breathes. We learned to love whoever our son loved. And it was easy. What I had been so afraid of became a blessing. The journey wasn’t without mistakes, but we had grace for each other, and the language of apology and forgiveness became a natural part of our relationship. As our son pursued recovery from drug and alcohol addiction, we pursued him. God taught us how to love him, to rejoice over him, to be proud of the man he was becoming. We were all healing…and most importantly, Ryan began to think that if WE could forgive him and love him, then maybe God could, too.

And then Ryan made the classic mistake of a recovering addict…he got back together with his old friends…his using friends. And one evening that was supposed to simply be a night at the movies turned out to be the first time he had shot up in ten months…and the last time. We got a phone call from a social worker at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle asking us to come identify our son – that he had arrived there in a coma, in critical condition. We spent 17 days at Harborview, during which time our whole family was able to surround and love on Ryan. We experienced miracle after miracle during that time, things that no doctor had any medical explanation for. God’s presence was TANGIBLE in Ryan’s room. But that is a long, sacred story that I’ll have to tell another time.

Though Ryan had suffered such severe brain damage that he had almost complete paralysis, the doctors told us that he could very well outlive us. But, unexpectedly, Ryan died on July 16, 2009. And we lost the ability to love our gay son…because we no longer had a gay son. What we had wished for…prayed for…hoped for…that we would NOT have a gay son, came true. But not at all in the way we used to envision.

Now, when I think back on the fear that governed all my reactions during those first six years after Ryan told us he was gay, I cringe as I realize how foolish I was. I was afraid of all the wrong things. And I grieve, not only for my oldest son, who I will miss every day for the rest of my life, but for the mistakes I made. I grieve for what could have been, had we been walking by FAITH instead of by FEAR. Now, whenever Rob and I join our gay friends for an evening, I think about how much I would love to be visiting with Ryan and his partner over dinner. But instead, we visit Ryan’s gravestone. We celebrate anniversaries: the would-have-been birthdays and the unforgettable day of his death. We wear orange – his color. We hoard memories: pictures, clothing he wore, handwritten notes, lists of things he loved, tokens of his passions, recollections of the funny songs he invented, his Curious George and baseball blankey, anything, really, that reminds us of our beautiful boy…for that is all we have left, and there will be no new memories. We rejoice in our adult children, and in our growing family as they marry…but ache for the one of our “gang of four” who is missing. We mark life by the days BC (before coma) and AD (after death), because we are different people now; our life was irrevocably changed – in a million ways – by his death. We treasure friendships with others who “get it”…because they, too, have lost a child.

We weep. We seek Heaven for grace and mercy and redemption as we try – not to get better but to be better. And we pray that God can somehow use our story to help other parents learn to truly love their children. Just because they breathe.

________________________________________________

Linda originally posted her story on her Facebook page on January 14, 2013 which would have been Ryan’s 24th birthday and shortly after that she started her blog “Just Because They Breathe” so she could share her story with more people. Please share Linda’s story with your friends so that more parents can learn to truly love their children just because they breathe.

Serendipitydodah for Moms is a private Facebook group created as an extension of the Serendipitydodah blog. The group is secret so that only members can find it or see what is posted in the group. The group was started in June 2014 and presently has more than 1,700 members. For more info email lizdyer55@gmail.com

Stephanie Rice earned a spot on Team Gwen Stefani when she sang “Piece by Piece” by Kelly Clarkson for her blind audition earlier this year – and, she earned a spot in the hearts of a lot of moms of LGBTQ kids when she shared that the vulnerability in her performance came from her parents disowning her after she came out to them.

Her parents freaked out when they discovered she had love letters from a girl when she was 17 years old, and as a result she tried to suppress her feelings for women to please her dad. However, when she started dating her first girlfriend at 18, Stephanie’s parents completely disowned her and she hasn’t been in contact with them since.

Moms in the group “Serendipitydodah for Moms” were deeply touched by Stephanie’s story and have been watching and voting for Stephanie as she continues to advance in the singing competition. They wanted to do something to let Stephanie know about their support so they decided to send the following letter to Stephanie to let her know they support her and accept her just the way she is!

Dear Stephanie,

We are members of a large private Facebook group called Serendipitydodah for Moms. The group was created for open minded Christian moms of LGBT kids who love and support their kids and want to develop and maintain healthy, authentic, loving relationships with their LGBT kids. We have more than 1,700 members in the group and many of us are working to bring attention to acceptance and equality, sometimes in personal relationships and sometimes publicly.

We are writing to you because we want you to know that we were encouraged when you shared your story on The Voice. Of course we are sad and broken hearted to hear about the way your parents abandoned and rejected you, but we are so thankful that you are willing to share your story because we believe it is important for others to hear stories like your own. We also want to let you know we care about you and recognize the courage it took for you to share your story publicly. We are moms who understand because some of our own children have had to exhibit the same kind of courage when they finally determined to come out and begin living fully into the person they were created to be.

Although there is a lot of ignorance and hate out there, we want to encourage you. Every day there are more and more people who are supportive and affirming of LGBT people. The tide is turning and things are getting better. Laws are changing and many, many people do care about you and support you.

So, hang in there and never give up on your dream to live a full, happy, successful, good life.

More than 500 of us are signing our names to this letter with much love, gratitude and encouragement sent your way. We think you are amazing! We love to hear you sing! Your voice is beautiful! You are beautiful – inside and out! We are rooting for you and wish you the best in all that you do!

Thank you for the way you are encouraging others.

We will continue to fight for you, pray for you and support you just as you are.

Love & light,Liz Dyer, Founder & Owner

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Zora Oh

Serendipitydodah for Moms is a private Facebook group created in June 2014 as an extension of the Serendipitydodah blog. The group presently has more than 1,700 members and was especially created for Christian moms of LGBTQ kids who want to develop and maintain healthy, authentic, loving relationships with their LGBTQ kids. Our official motto is “We Are Better Together” and our nickname is “Mama Bears” The group is private so only members can see who is in the group and what is posted in the group. For more info email lizdyer55@gmail.com

I’m especially happy to share this Mama Bear Story with you. Jeannie was one of the original Mama Bears and she was dearly loved by all of us who knew her. She was always a great encouragement to us – always offering a loving and kind word – always seeing the best in everyone and cheering them on to pursue their dreams – always reminding people how much God loved them. Our hearts were broken when Jeannie’s life was cut short a few years ago. But the legacy of love and light that she created lives on in the communities she helped create and in the hearts and lives of those she touched with her radical love and inclusion. I am filled with gratitude that Jeannie’s son, Matt Moran, has given me permission to share her story here and for the beautiful closing message he wrote. Jeannie was an amazing person and a passionate mama bear. Matt is also an amazing person and his mother’s fingerprints are all over his life.

Had anyone told me twenty years ago that I would be sharing my story as the mom of a gay son, my response “… And you are crazy” would have been an understatement. My son would not, could not, be gay. You see, I raised him as a Christian. We attended church every Sunday morning, and on a good week, we were there on Wednesday and Sunday nights as well. Matt attended a Christian school. He accepted Christ at the tender age of six, and still remembers the moment that he looked out the window of his bedroom one day, “knowing that Jesus was real” and asking Him into his heart. I was a single mom, and while I wasn’t perfect, I was a good mom, living a Christ-honoring life to the best of my ability, and teaching my son to do the same. But more importantly, I prayed for Matt consistently from the day he was born. My favorite verse to “claim” was that God wasa Father to the fatherless. He had answered many prayers and had shown Himself faithful to us in hundreds of ways throughout the years – so could my son be gay? Absolutely not!

I will never forget the night Matt told me “Mom, I’m gay.” He was 24 years old at the time, had been out of college for two years, and was home from Nashville for a visit. I recall the shock and disbelief as I heard the words, yet almost simultaneously, my mind rebounded with the thought that “this is just a bump in the road and we will get through it.” I immediately attributed his struggle to the fact that he had been raised without his dad, and I figured “God has brought us through everything else; He’ll bring us through this.” I assured Matt of my love for him, and that I knew we’d get through this like we had everything else – together.

After Matt went to bed that night, I went into the bathroom, crawled into the fetal position on the floor, and laid there for hours, as I cried out to God from a place so deep in my soul that I seriously wondered if one could die from emotional pain. “THIS could not be happening. God, I did my best. I raised my son to know and honor You, I instructed him ‘in the way he should go.’ I gave my all to be the best mom I knew how to be and Matt was a good kid. But more importantly, I trusted in YOU, God, and Your promises. NO, NO, NO!!!”

The months following Matt’s revelation to me were difficult for us. We had always been close, sharing our faith, our joys and struggles, and simply being good friends who laughed together as we enjoyed what was for both of us a great mom/son relationship. Matt had moved to Nashville after college and I quickly grew to love the city and his friends when I visited there, but now, for the first time, I felt unwelcome.

Matt eventually shared with me that he had realized at the age of 22 that he was gay (two years prior to telling me.) He said that he sought counseling as soon as he arrived in Nashville, and he told me that one of the first things he said to his counselor was “My mom will never know about this.” He knew how I felt about the issue of homosexuality, that it was a sinful lifestyle choice and one that no good Christian would make. As I struggled to accept the fact that my son was gay, praying earnestly for God to change him, the divide between us grew. What had previously been a comfortable relationship was now strained and awkward. It broke my heart to call and get his voicemail, rather than hear the friendly “Hey, Mom.” I knew he didn’t want to talk with me. As I made attempts to talk with him and try to understand his “struggle”

Matt eventually told me “Mom, you need to find your own support system. I can’t help you with this and I need my space.” I know now that my very presence induced shame as he felt my disappointment in what I thought were his “choices.”

Suffice it to say, I did the work. I sought counseling. I went to conferences. I read every book I could find, and most of all, I prayed, and I prayed, …and I prayed some more.

I cried nearly every day for eight years, pleading with God to change my son.

God answered my prayer… just not in the way that I expected. Instead of changing my son, he changed me.

Years later I’m at a much different place than I was that first night. While much of my journey has been lonely and challenging, I’d go through it all again to arrive where I’m at today and to know the amazing people that I have met along the way.

C.S. Lewis said “I have no answers anymore. Only the life I’ve lived.”

I hope by sharing a bit of the life I’ve lived I can encourage other parents like me.

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A message from Matt:

A week before my mom passed away from cancer, she underwent a series of strokes that left her rather confused and incoherent. But as my family stood around her hospital bed watching her sleep, she awakened suddenly, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she said, “You guys!! You guys! Every heart…is a masterpiece!”

Even today, I can’t help but believe that, in that moment, Mom was somehow standing between this world and the next, and seeing with eyes that were clearer than most of us could ever hope to have.

I have been overwhelmed by the number of emails, cards and letters I have received from other “mama bears” (my mom used to say, in reference to me, “Hon…you are my heart walking around outside of my body.”) sharing with me the impact that she made on their lives. And I know that I know that nothing…absolutely nothing…would make her happier than to know that her story and message of unbridled love and acceptance are being passed along to those who need to hear it most.

You all are making a difference in the lives of gay folks and their families that is changing the course of history, and I am so incredibly thankful for the work you are doing. In the words of my mom, you are truly “melting hearts and changing minds,” and, in my heart of hearts, I am confident that she is cheering you on (and even pulling a few strings.) to the finish line.

From the bottom of my heart – thank you.

Yours truly,

Matt Moran

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In addition to being an amazing Corporate Coach/Trainer/Consultant, Matt is also a very talented musician. He released a CD last year called Awakening. I love it and highly recommend it. I recommend buying the actual CD as it includes a booklet with some special words from Matt. There are some especially meaningful songs on the CD including”The Story of Us” which is a song that Matt sang for his mother in her final days and “Hallalujah Chorus” which he dedicated to the Mama Bears last year on the day that would have been Jeannie’s 66th birthday. You can go here to see and listen to the music video of Hallalujah Chorus.